


Training Day

by Hyacinthium



Series: Saimota Week 2018 [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, LGBTQ Themes, Minor Angst, Saimota Week 2018, Slight drinking, Supportive People, Training Camp, Walking is a Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 05:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16886496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyacinthium/pseuds/Hyacinthium
Summary: Shuichi’s friends gather on a special day for the sake of practice, confirmation, and to learn how the hell heels work.





	Training Day

**Author's Note:**

> There's a lot of conundrums with being trans. Transitioning isn't just hrt and surgical procedures after all. I didn't go full into it, but there's spots about it... Also, Kokichi is ambiguously drunk here. If you aren't ok with minor drunkness but want to read anyway, pls be careful. It's not bad though.
> 
> Happy day three!

The floor is hard. Normal, considering that it's hardwood. Training is also hard if for other reasons. Especially when it's training like but not limited to: actually doing sit ups, manipulation of the voice, or you know… walking like a woman. At least the first is something that Shuichi doesn't do anymore. Only Kaito is going to be having big manly arms in this relationship. Shuichi sighs and picks herself up from the floor, both loving and hating the feeling of her heels. 

One hand has the cons of being taller and thus more 'manly'. The other hand has the big big pros of being woman's shoes and all around feeling like a huge confirmation. Much like switching to more a feminine deodorant. 

Baby steps. 

Except this is more like ‘wobbly fall over in front of all of your close friends before your fiance gets home’ steps. 

“This is the best thing I've ever done!” Kokichi cries out at Shuichi’s side, right hand holding a glass of alcohol, left hand on his hips. 

Everyone proceeds to roll their eyes, though Shuichi stares with disbelief at the insanely thin and tall heels the man wears. Black leather boots that almost match what Iruma is wearing. Even if the things go up to Kokichi's thighs. They click as Kokichi walks back to his seat, swaying both confidently and somewhat drunkenly. Maki’s face twitches as the man flops himself on the love seat next to her. Strong hands snap to grab the bottle of sakura flavored vodka- red eyes staring into purple as Kokichi processes the loss of further refills. 

“I cannot believe that we're fraternal twins. How fucking dare you,” Kokichi whispers as tears bud in his eyes. 

Maki stares straight into her brother's eyes as she pours the last of the vodka into her glass. 

Himiko mumbles something about repetition and walks over to the laptop, clicking, probably to reread the various guides. 

“Saihara-chan, my sister stolen your vitae!” the man shouts, body springing up before slumping back down. “I mean vokda. Vodka. Maki drank potatoes.”

Resisting the urge to stare is more difficult than walking over to sit next to Iruma. The woman keeps scribbling down numbers into a notepad. It's faintly uncomfortable in the way things alway are when Iruma is quiet. Mostly in the sense that Shuichi has no idea what she's doing. Or thinking, since Iruma has been scribbling since she came in. Shuichi tries to relax into her armchair, eyes drifting down to see sketches of breasts. 

Understanding courses though Shuichi’s mind. Of course, yes, Iruma is just drawing breasts and… 

“What are you doing?” the Detective asks, faintly aghast. Her eyes widen as she takes in a mess of numbers and nipples. 

The Ultimate Inventor looks up at her and grins before going back to grinding graphite into paper, “Making you a pair of titty.”

Kokichi cackles out the phrase ‘breast forms’ and spills vodka on Maki, who audibly gulps down her drink, babbling about helping people pick out their best boobs. Shuichi blushes without the slightest hint of words. She had figured that neither of the siblings would care, but not once has the woman adjusted to the sheer enthusiasm. It's almost enough for suspicions to rise, but… 

Asking Kokichi something so personal just because of this is rude. Shuichi breathes in and crosses her legs. The woman's fingers fiddle with silky strands of shoulder length hair. Iruma mutters about bunkering down to get more information, and it's something that makes the detective smile. Volatile is Iruma’s middle name, usually. 

Shuichi admits that something less accepting is what she expected. From Himiko there seems to be nothing but determination. Iruma is already planning for the future. Maki and her brother are drinking vodka after invading the Saihara-Momota residence, boxes and bags full of gifts in hand. 

“Nyeh,” comes a grunt. 

Just an inch taller than she was at age sixteen, Himiko turns around. She's not much better with her heels than Shuichi is, all things considered. Her walking is less ‘fall down’ but even more awkward. Kokichi daring to be more graceful in what Iruma calls ‘cat in heat stripper artwork’ grinds on the small woman. 

Himiko shuffles over and puts motions for Shuichi to stand. She does and immediately gets a tiny pair of hands on her hips. 

“We're too stiff,” Himiko says instead of explaining this round of hip touching. 

“I'm not stiff. I fluid,” Kokichi whispers to his vodka. “I'm grape vodkuh. Vodkin. I'm Darth Vodkin. Hey, is Smoogi really not gonna make it around until next month? She's clothing good.”

Groaning, Maki steals her brother's glass and pours it into her own. She chugs down the sakura flavored alcohol with the look of the damned. Shuichi winces and mentally gives her respects. It's not going to be fun when those two visit their parents for dinner tonight. 

“What do you mean by stiff, exactly?” Shuichi asks. Guessing what Himiko means isn't hard, really, but clarification is good. 

“Both of us are nervous… so we walk too stiffly because self-consciousness. You and I have all the other steps to walking this way down!” the Ultimate Magician gripes, brown eyes narrowing. 

After that there's a failed round of trying to walk while relaxed. If nothing else, it prompts a short discussion on what it means to be fluid. Kokichi insisting that fluid entails alcohol and hooligans. Reaching a point of intense concern, and exasperation, Shuichi takes off her heels and starts up a pot of coffee. Wearing slippers is a true blessing. Still, the woman catches herself being ‘too self-aware’. 

"But what does that even add up to?" Shuichi mutters, lips contorting into a frown. Yet, she knows exactly what part of the problem is. Each stumble and each failure has become more than something to improve.

She can't help but feel like a fake. Despite staring and clicking away as one group at the sight of 'weakness is feminine', despite knowing that 'how women walk' isn't actually some big unified thing, despite bone deep understanding that heels are not some magical gateway- 

It's just frustrating to keep trying when doubts about everything are clogging up your head. More annoying than a drunk 'Ouma' Kokichi. Not that the man hasn't gone as far as texting links to diets and other applicable things. A whole workout geared to making your body both fit and womanly. It's like the Ultimate Supreme Leader has a site for everything. Shuichi sighs and pours hi- her guests their coffee. 

God, if there was a button to turn off internal misgendering.

The coffee smells rich and strongly, deep brown in white cups, because it's the only thing that wakes both Kaito and Shuichi up in the morning. Right. Gold eyes shut for a few seconds, a smile forming. 

Kaito... Is steadily removing instances of 'oh dude' or 'hey man' from his vocabulary. Slips turning into consistent use of other things. Time flowing on and on with each day becoming better. Opening her eyes, the Detective takes in the scent of too strong coffee and a kitchen. One mystery stain from when they first moved in. Today is an anniversary. Kaito will be cooking dinner, no mysterious catastrophe included.

"Heeeeey Saihara-chan?"

Shuichi makes a small 'weh' noise as she jumps around to face her off and on friend.

Kokichi's lips are pursed into a tiny collection of contours, eyes trained on something past Shuichi’s head, and he stands utterly still. Looking more sober than he has since showing up. A reminder of just how indecipherable the man is. Rude to remember, considering everything that's still going on.

But the Detective can't help but be careful around him. Even if his last name has only ever been Harukawa, in reality. For all that Harukawa Kokichi was a boy following his sister's obsession... This usually quiet and reclusive man is no longer that. None of them are what they were anymore. It's better that way too.

Like a breeze going by, Kokichi smiles lackadaisically and says, "You pass. And you aren't going to be a caricature."

"I mean you've basically been passing or able to pass since ever," the man casually states, not even giving Shuichi time to understand. "Your voice now isn't much deeper than in the game, ya know? Saihara-chan is good at manipulating too. If you want I can hook you up with classes anyway! All you need to do is remember the cahf- caffee. Cafe. Not a single stranger thought of you as a man. Things are tricky in Japan but..."

Shuichi hides her face in her hands as Kokichi slowly leans into a counter. The man proceeds to slide onto the floor.

"Oh. The vogya isbec."

“You aren't actually drunk, are you?” the woman asks as Kokichi squints at the ceiling. 

The man looks at her blankly and winks. 

A faint click and rustling of bags ensues from the front door. It opens with a rush of frenzied curses- Kaito's voice carrying. Shuichi’s heartbeat races at the sound. Murmurs and packing start up in the living room, and the smell of coffee suddenly seems like a waste. Unless the Detective can force her friends to chug steaming caffeine filled bean water.

"Oh fuck it's Legweak!" Kokichi abruptly screams, leaping up onto his pin thin heels. 

Helpless to prevent Kokichi's click clacking sprint, Shuichi’s eyebrows twitch vigorously. She blinks uselessly at empty air and puts the coffee cups onto a tray. Walking on abused hardwood flooring and keeping an eye out for sudden movement comes naturally. 

"Is horseboy in here?!" Kaito yells in response. "Am I about to get slime on me?!" 

Maki gets up and stretches, helping Shuichi give everyone their coffee. Iruma chugs it fearlessly. Himiko takes one sniff before giving her cup to Iruma, who chugs it and then belches.

"I didn't let him this time," Maki says loudly. She sips her coffee once before putting it down. The small grin on Shuichi’s face widens at a sudden hug. Red eyes soften as pale fingers pat at the soft fabric of Shuichi’s dress. Former Ultimate Assassin, currently Ultimate Self-Defense Trainer, Harukawa Maki smiles. In a whisper she says, "You're strong... The box with a crown on it has lingerie."

"Oh my god Maki no-"

“That café is run by our parents. We grew up learning all sorts of things. So we won't be running away,” the woman finishes. 

Iruma shoves papers into her bag and says 'g cup no bueno' before skittering towards door with a vaguely scandalous thumbs-up. It's both encouraging and confusing. Shuichi just stares at her other best friend and rubs her eyes, feeling foolish. Petite arms soon wrap around the woman's middle. Himiko nyehs in all her apple cider scented glory. Maki rolls her eyes and walks back to grab her bag. As if nothing happened, Shuichi watches her friends steadily file out of the door.

"We're going toooi out rent. Ours. Parents!" 

"Holy shit you tiny manslut, I ain't your fucking sister!"

"MY BARA FANSITE IS PURE YOU FEMALE INVOLENTARY CELEBTE!"

Kaito looks shocked as he returns Maki to the ground. The woman pats the Astronaut's arm and wisely tells him to not use Google.

Laughing despite confusion, Kaito puts an arm around Shuichi’s shoulders. There are three bags full of socks in the entrance way. Not something that Shuichi is ready to question at the moment. Only so much surrealism in one day. Probably gifts from the people down at the gym anyway. Various cards imply as much. 

Shuichi turns to her fiancé and pulls him down for a short kiss. There's the feeling of Kaito relaxing into it, embracing her, regrown goatee and all. It tickles against smooth skin without a care. Warm air and chuckles- both of them laughing amidst plastic bags and the rush of leaving friends. Their lips meld together as Shuichi whispers welcome home. 

“Good to be home… even if Ouma said I'm not daddy. Which is obvious because I don't have kids,” Kaito says.

The man rubs the back of his head and grabs up his bags of dinner ingredients and socks. He grins victoriously as he walks into the kitchen. Knowing better than to offer help, Shuichi goes to the table and watches her future husband. An apron covered by aliens in spaceships is quickly found- and Kaito is soon working away. 

Gold eyes glaze over as Shuichi decides to not explain. At least just this once.


End file.
